Vaneisa Baksh

Sarwan's claims are true about King's manner being rough, but there is evidence that the players have not been inclined to regard coaching instructions © AFP

Recent comments by West Indies captain Ramnaresh Sarwan while he was in Toronto for therapy for his shoulder injury have raised eyebrows and set tongues wagging. Sarwan was reported to have called former coach Bennett King the "worst coach" he had ever had, and to have said King's manner was aggressive and intimidated younger players.

Much speculation has been raised over the timing of Sarwan's remarks, especially as King had returned to Australia a couple of months ago. Had Sarwan been waiting for the new administration to be assembled before airing his gripe? It seems more likely that Sarwan was simply responding to a pointed question and his remarks were neither premeditated nor part of some unfolding strategy.

His history alone reveals the likeliness of this: Sarwan is a chatterbox and will talk freely once he gets going. Perhaps the acupuncture treatment made him more relaxed and inclined to greater frankness, but it is unlikely that he has been biding time and planning a hit.

Yet hit he did. Not only at Bennett King, towards whom his remarks were scathing, but also at his former captain, Brian Lara. Sarwan was bitter as he spoke of the circumstances under which he was dropped for the second Test against Pakistan at Multan in 2006.

"I was in the dressing room on the morning of the Test preparing to go out for batting practice when Brian approached me and said I was not playing," he recounted. "I was very shocked, but I said nothing and went out to do some batting drills. I don't think my omission was justified. I was very angry because there was no specific reason given for the decision to drop me. It made me understand that the sport is also about politics and that people would do what's necessary to accomplish their own goals, whatever that might be. It was a very humiliating experience, but I think it has made me stronger as a person."

The incident was one Lara had explained as aimed at sending a message to Sarwan to help him improve his game. Indeed, reports were circulating behind the scenes that Sarwan's behaviour at the time was arrogant and that he heeded no one.

Was it appropriate to tell him on the morning of the Test that he was not playing? He was not the first to have been summarily dropped, but surely he was not clueless about the impact of his behaviour. Remember, Clive Lloyd had been asked (after Garry Sobers was unavailable) to come out to join the team to help with player relations.

Sarwan's ego was reasonably wounded by the cut. With many non-cricket months under his belt since, one expects that he would have revisited the circumstances mentally and tried to assess the situation from a distance. If he has done so, and still arrives at the conclusion that his being dropped was a politically motivated move to facilitate other people's goals, that says a great deal about Sarwan, about his relationship with Lara, and about the general atmosphere in which these players huddle (or don't).

Sarwan's criticism of King follows similar statements, notably by Marlon Samuels, about the relationship between coach and players. Perhaps Sarwan's claims are true about King's manner being rough, but then there is also the question of how rough is rough. I don't doubt that Sarwan believes what he says. I also think there is evidence that the players have not been inclined to regard coaching instructions, and those concerning nutrition and physical fitness, with respect. Some months ago a physio's report was circulated that cited some serious slackness within the outfit in each of these areas.

Sarwan himself is not known to be keen on training. In the same Toronto interview he spoke of his ambivalence as he went after the ball, attempting to field which he injured himself. "I wanted to dive earlier, but by the time I realised I was very close to the boundary, I lunged forward and fell awkwardly. Looking back, it was obviously not the right thing to do."

Is it that they are not trained on how to slide and dive, or is it that they ignore the training? Coaches galore have come and gone, most complaining that they cannot get the team to comply. Even Malcolm Marshall threw up his hands in despair. Is it a coach problem, a team problem, or the inability of both sides to understand each other's roles and responsibilities?

Sarwan may have inadvertently started another debate over what ails West Indies cricket. Whether his remarks were intemperate or not should not cloud the issue because, right or wrong, he has communicated quite clearly that these flawed relations are as much to blame for poor performance as anything else. The new board would do well to address that, rather than seek to employ the old method of disciplining the messenger.

Ramnarine finds himself without the necessary resources or history to help him © Trinidad & Tobago Express

Vaneisa Baksh

A couple of decades ago, the West Indies Players' Association (WIPA) was formed, but it was so demure that it was rarely heard in public.

As the cricket industry developed worldwide, players' associations became more assertive and involved, restructuring relationships between players and their paymasters - be they cricket boards, sponsors, or endorsement seekers. This introduced a new role: that of a quasi-trade unionist with some cricket pedigree, and often an additional business-related skill. These board-busters have been shaking up the establishment for a decade, steadily improving contract terms and payments for cricketers.

For the past ten years Australian cricketers have been enjoying the best of everything, and it is no coincidence that it followed heavy investment in development programmes, or that the Australian players' association is powerful and respected.

Over that same period West Indies cricket has been at its lowest; and although WIPA has expanded its activities and interests, and grown more vociferous and assertive, respect and power for the organisation seem elusive.

It is tempting to conclude that the missing element here is development, but if you study the nature of the repeated contretemps between the West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) and WIPA, you will find at alpha points that there is a general misunderstanding of roles and responsibilities. As their worlds evolve, neither side really knows what the other is supposed to do. Hunker this down with the traditional relationship - where boards call the shots and players are mere minions, where there is no culture of discussion, and where social and political networks draw the lots for positions of power - and it becomes easier to understand the inevitability of clashes.

There is no history of partnerships to guide negotiations between the two, and as they encounter new dimensions to managing cricket, the complexity of the tasks confuse them. And because they do not trust each other, their instincts are to indulge in sophistry and cunning to score public points as they gamble on the chance that the other might be wrong.

The behaviour defining the relationship between the WICB and WIPA is precisely of the sort that one should expect of parties who lack confidence in their own competence. Because they are unable to let go of the old ways and hold hands to better navigate the new, they cannot accept that neither entity on its own can rise to the challenges of our times.

This is the heart of the problem that has emerged like a Medusa gone wild between the WICB and WIPA.

It is easy to just scrape at the first layer of muck and ascribe blame to the manner of the people at the forefront. Given their deportment, one is scarcely challenged to search beyond. On the one hand there is the WIPA President, Dinanath Ramnarine, a former Test player, who rubs many people the wrong way by the belligerence that lies just beneath his skin.

Ramnarine has many ideas about broadening the ambit of WIPA to include several educational and development programmes for players. He genuinely wants to see the lot of the cricketer improved - perhaps this might be connected to his own feeling that he was unfairly forced out of West Indies cricket - and he works hard in pursuit of this. But Ramnarine has found himself in waters without boundaries or buoys and his organisation has not had the necessary resources or history to help him. He has been doing much of the work on his own, and although he has found help, he is still stretched thin.

He has brought a tremendous amount of energy to the role, and while that is vital, his frenetic aura can be disconcerting. Conversations with him can leave one dazed as he streams from one topic to the other, and one cannot imagine him pausing ever, so torrential are his outbursts.

Ramnarine has many ideas about broadening the ambit of WIPA to include several educational and development programmes for players. He genuinely wants to see the lot of the cricketer improved - perhaps this might be connected to his own feeling that he was unfairly forced out of West Indies cricket - and he works hard in pursuit of this

Ramnarine does not trust the WICB, and if one were to check the record of their dealings for the past five years or so of his tenure, it is clear why. He has had little reason to, and given his prior relationship with the board and its functionaries (remember, he retired at 28, having played in 12 Tests and taken 45 wickets with some pretty good legspin) there is nothing really to suggest there will be any improvement without fundamental changes.

But despite talk by the WICB's outgoing president, Ken Gordon, that the recently appointed Governance Committee was the most important ever established, the board is not in a hurry to institute the changes the committee has recommended - not when one of those was that the board should give way to a more representative body.

The latest slew of exchanges between the board and WIPA revealed the nature of the tension between them. Ramnarine has charged the board with reneging on terms of their MOU, particularly with regard to including WIPA in negotiations affecting players. Gordon has accused Ramnarine of basically cussing off everyone and calling them liars.

In print Ramnarine has been careful to stick to issues, though it is quite easy to imagine him throwing some bad words the board's way. This is what ticks them off mostly, it seems, since when it comes down to the issues at hand, the WICB really does not counter his charges with substance.

At this juncture, there is something to be gleaned from an interview on CaribbeanCricket.com with the former WICB Chief Cricket Operations Officer, Zorol Barthley. Barthley has accused the board of trying to save face in the dispute over interpreting what was included in the Future Tours Programme (FTP) by seeking to discredit him and tarnishing his reputation in the process. Barthley spoke of his good relations with Ramnarine, and of others who found him willing to argue a point amicably over a meal. Others have said the same of their dealings with Ramnarine.

Those who have found him obnoxious are those who have dealt with him in less than good faith. There are those, too, whose notions of social hierarchies are affronted by the idea of this little loudmouth daring to challenge the high and mighty. The Jamaica Gleaner, for example, recently posted two editorials writing off Ramnarine and WIPA. The first, in May, was over the issue of the FTP, and the Gleaner was clear: "Our position is that the WICB should pay the West Indies players not one red cent more. Nor should the board negotiate with WIPA. Mr Ramnarine, and whoever else, should be sent packing forthwith."

Ken Gordon has accused Ramnarine of basically cussing off everyone and calling them liars © Getty Images

Fuming at what it considered to be underperforming players seeking more money, it concluded that, "In the past, tough action by the WICB has not easily found favour with the Caribbean public. The board's own mismanagement robbed it of moral authority. This time, however, things are rather different. The West Indian public, we believe, would back the WICB and rebuff the arrogant posturing of WIPA and the players."

Recommendations that players should have performance-based packages are valuable, but are not linked to the issue of what constitutes tours or matches inside or outside the purview of the FTP. What comes across here is the general disgust over performance, and an attempt to blame WIPA for it. On July 18 the Gleaner got more personal after the Gordon/Ramnarine exchange.

"Whatever the reasons why he never quite made the grade as a Test player, Mr Ramnarine has transformed himself into a trade union leader, as the CEO of WIPA, negotiating on behalf of the players. His is a trade unionism of the old order; one encrusted, in our view, in an archaic confrontationalism rather than an attempt to build partnership and trust. Which is largely the point that has been made by Ken Gordon, the WICB president, in relation to Mr Ramnarine's latest salvo."

The next day, the Trinidad Express, a paper once headed by Gordon, echoed the Gleaner: "Mr Gordon has suggested to the WIPA president that the latter should engage in some honest self-analysis of his own style rather than seek comfort in the view that it is the style of everybody else which is wrong. The least Mr Ramnarine could now do is to consider, in a spirit of humility, whether Mr Gordon's assessment has any merit or whether he just happens to be always right."

Ramnarine's manner, said Gordon, "stymied" attempts to work together, and this is what exasperated leader writers have latched onto. But the root of it is more accurately traced to repeated breaches of trust in the course of the board's negotiations with WIPA.

Gordon's response has essentially been a reprimand to Ramnarine for speaking without finesse to his superiors, for not showing respect to authority. But the WICB does not show respect for WIPA either. Its brand new website carries the list of WIPA's executive from January 2001, listing Courtney Walsh as its president.

There is a culture that gives a ready ear to voices coming from the upper echelons, and were Ramnarine to speak from that position, I bet the response would have been different.

Allen Stanford poses the WICB the greatest challenge it has faced in the 80-odd years of its existence © Tropiximaging

Vaneisa Baksh

The ICC has apparently accepted a request from its "members" to act as intermediary between the West Indies Cricket Board and Allen Stanford in discussions on the proposed Stanford 20/20 tournament in 2008. A statement from the CEO Malcolm Speed said its members recognise the "potential benefits of the tournament for the development of cricket in the West Indies", but wished "to ensure that their participation in any event such as this will benefit as many of the game's stakeholders as possible..."

The interests to be protected are those relating to the Future Tours Programme (FTP) broadcast rights belonging to ESPN-Star Sports. After the difficulty in interpreting what was included in the FTP prior to the West Indies tour of England, it is clear which member's concerns are being addressed. Since Stanford's plan includes a television series, broadcast rights must be protected.

The ICC's concerns are not the only ones being aired. Carib Beer, a regional cricket sponsor, has fired brazen and bizarre questions at the tournament. Colin Murray, sponsor and events manager, objected to the Stanford tournament's timing, in January-February 2008, as he felt it would take precedence over their four-day regional competition, usually scheduled then. Alleging that Stanford had his own agenda and was more interested in his tournament than the development of West Indies cricket, Murray asked: "How is Stanford investing this money to ensure the West Indies Board operations are stable and will continue to benefit from his involvement? What type of funding will the West Indies Cricket Board be getting out of this?"

Murray could well have asked the same questions of his own firm, which has made its Carib girls celebrities at cricket grounds. Has Carib Beer invested in developmental programmes in any sustained way, if at all? If those same questions were asked of his company, he would very likely be the spokesman coming out to say that the responsibility for the development of West Indies cricket lies with the WICB and not a sponsor, and he might very well inflate a Carib bottle and have some Carib girls wine in front of it to emphasise his point.

The Trinidad Guardian, a paper belonging to the Ansa McAl Group which also owns Carib, wrote an editorial asking the same questions. "... Stanford must not be allowed to stage [sic] an event that prepares the regional team for international cricket. Test cricket remains the real thing," it said. "Stanford must allow the four-day tournament its way, as soon after that, the Australians will be here. His tournament would hardly be what is needed to prepare."

It advises the WICB to let Stanford know that he is only welcome if what he is doing is not in conflict with what the WICB is doing. One could say that given the type of practice the West Indies team had before its English tour - none - that there is no conflict here. But that would be facetious.

The editorial ends even more farcically. "And since he seems obsessed with only dealing with the cream of the crop, he owes it to the WICB to put something back into the other end of the scale, where the development is concerned."

To each of the 21 participating territories Stanford has provided US$100,000 in capital investment funding and US$180,000 for development for players and coaches, and support and maintenance of facilities and equipment. It sounds like a good deal: money specifically assigned for these purposes, and Stanford has set up auditing mechanisms to ensure that it is so used. There really is nothing to fear or disparage about the tournament, except that it threatens certain interests. And that is why Stanford's plans have catapulted the old boys' network into such a frenzy.

This month-long tournament is to yield its best players to form a Stanford Super Stars team. Stanford hopes to have four international teams in a knockout competition, with the finalist facing his Super Stars for US$ 20 million. Think about it: Antigua, sea, sun, sand, cricket, and matches featuring, say, Australia, India, South Africa and Sri Lanka. Sexy.

Last year the tournament was an unbridled success. The attention to detail, while impressive, was never oppressive or alienating. Proportionally it was far more popular, user-friendly and exciting than the World Cup that followed it. Stanford had declared a budget of US$28 million for that show. Now he is preparing to invest US$100 million over three years.

Last year's tournament might have been seen as a one-off caper that had been successfully contained when the West Indies Cricket Board thwarted the Super Stars clash. But the idea that Stanford has persevered, re-grouped, expanded, and is prepared to stay with it for five years at least must be sending shivers up and down many rigid spines.

Stanford's foray into cricket has come at a crucial time. West Indies cricket has been suffering for more than a decade. All key relationships are dysfunctional. Players, administrators, sponsors, coaches, and investors are bruised by the skirmishes that keep flaring up. Whatever money can be found after players and administrators pay their hotel-, travel-, meal- and bling bills, gets spent on damage control. Nothing is allocated for development.

Whatever spin the WICB puts on its takings from the World Cup, everyone knows they cannot recoup the investment; they simply do not know how. The event left a bitter aftertaste that no number of upbeat press conferences can erase.

Stanford's crime is not his contribution to West Indies cricket, it is his success. It comes at a critical moment in the saga of the West Indies. For every thing that Stanford does right, the WICB commits 10 wrongs, and people at the end of their patience are watching.

Whether Stanford timed his entry perfectly or not, his success last year has painted a picture of possibility. At the beginning, Stanford admitted that his knowledge of the game was minimal, that what he understood was how to make money. He engaged the services of an advisory board that comprised 14 (now 15, if you add Michael Holding) respected cricketers and made them his counsellors and ambassadors. They have been outstanding emissaries, guiding him through the complexities involved in dealing with territorial governments and presenting the overall development case in the bargain.

"The board thought it was imperative that we have the support of the governments in the region for the Stanford 20/20 initiative. After all, it is the cricket programmes in their territories that are benefiting from this investment that Sir Allen is making," said Wes Hall as they announced the plans. Hall ought to know that what constitutes the "best interests of the game" is purely a matter of who is defining it. Stanford's crime is not his contribution to West Indies cricket, it is his success.

It comes at a critical moment in the saga of the West Indies. For every thing that Stanford does right, the WICB commits 10 wrongs, and people at the end of their patience are watching. The WICB faces the greatest challenge in its 80 years of existence. For the first time, there is something on the horizon that threatens its life.

by Sambit Bal

Brian Lara has been a peerless batsman © Getty Images

Saturday could be the last time we watch Brian Lara in an international match. Anyone who has a feel for cricket will mourn his loss, for no batsman in the last 15 years has brought more joy to spectators. But paradoxically, West Indian cricket is unlikely to miss him.

Lara's legacy will be deeply flawed as he has been the most mortal of geniuses. Any human, however talented, must be granted his indiscretions, and Lara has always been a complex character. His batting, a hostage to his moods, has touched extraordinary highs and inexplicable lows. But that's the essence of Lara and the peaks have been so rewarding that it's been easy to overlook the troughs.

To judge Lara's contribution to West Indian cricket, it is essential to separate his batting from his leadership. Lara the batsman is peerless, light years ahead of his compatriots who have struggled to match the deeds of their predecessors. Lara the leader has been diametrically opposite. Aloof and whimsical are the mild words used to describe him. The stronger ones are selfish, vindictive and unbecoming.

It is hardly a secret that Lara was foisted as captain by Ken Gordon, the president of the West Indies Cricket Board and a fellow Trinidadian, after the infamous row between the board and the players over sponsorship in 2005. A majority of the then selection committee didn't want him and none of the members of the present one want him either. But Gordon, in a move that will be familiar to most cricket fans in the subcontinent, imposed his will on them, and might want do so again. However, his hold on the board has been weakened following the World Cup debacle, and if the selectors have their way, Lara will not make the West Indian touring party for the trip to England in May. Not as captain, not even as player.

Two faced: as a leader Lara has been selfish and vindictive © Getty Images

While it would be unfair to blame one person, however powerful, for the abjectness of an entire team, those in the know firmly believe that the rot begins right at the top. Lara, they say, has never allowed the team to settle down, and worse, done his best to undermine any player who has crossed his path.

Of course, barring occasional outbursts against the selectors, he has been a model of rectitude and decorum in public, always choosing the right words, and hitting the right notes. In his press conference before the game against Bangladesh at Kensington Oval on Thursday, he repeated his apology to cricket fans and talked about the disappointment of the Caribbean nations. "The need to show character" was a phrase that came up repeatedly.

Yet, Lara, who will retire from one-day internationals after the tournament, stands accused of destroying the character of the team more than anyone else. On the field, he has been eccentric and unpredictable and some of his tactics have bordered on the bizarre. Some of his improvisations, like opening the bowling with Wavell Hinds and Dwayne Smith, have borne fruit, and he has been persuasive in arguing that he has used innovation as a surprise weapon due to the lack of too many real ones at his disposal. "I wouldn't have needed to experiment if I was leading Australia," he said during last year's Champions Trophy.

But some of the selections defied logic and cricket sense. For much of last year, Ian Bradshaw and Jerome Taylor were the team's best one-day bowlers. Bradshaw was outstanding with the new ball, often bowled his overs through and conceded about 40 runs. Taylor was beginning to master operating at the death, delivering at pace and firing in yorkers. Both have found themselves dropped repeatedly and Bradshaw has been used at first change and sometimes even at the death where he has been easy meat at his pace.

Lara picked the rookie Lendl Simmons as a batsman in the World Cup and put him at No. 8, and in the crucial, near knock-out match against New Zealand, he chose to hand a one-day debut to the 19-year-old Keiron Pollard while dropping Marlon Samuels, in whom he had expressed faith only a few weeks earlier.

Off the field, he has set a poor example to his team-mates when it comes to behaviour and personal work ethic. Genius must receive an allowance, and tales of Garry Sobers turning up at a match after a night of revelry abound in these parts. But Sobers played in a different era and he was captain for only a short part of his career. Lara has led a bunch of impressionable and far less talented individuals much prone to the risk of being led astray.

And he has been severe on the players who he has come to dislike. Ramnaresh Sarwan, a captaincy candidate who has a far better record in both forms of the game than most current players, had the mortification of being dropped on the tour of Pakistan and others have had their batting positions shuffled. Some are believed to be dead against him, while many others live in fear. It is not only a team lacking faith in its own ability, but lacking faith in their leader.

The cricket world will be poorer for Lara's departure, but for West Indian cricket it could be the way forward. It's a tragedy. Lara ought to be remembered as one of the most special batsmen in the history of the game and not a captain whose whims and sullenness destabilised an already feeble team.

Half-brothers Fidel Edwards and Pedro Collins with their mum outside their home in Boscobelle, Barbados © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Most islands in the West Indies require you to shell out a departure tax, a fee of around US $30, usually paid after checking in for your flight. Waiting in a queue at St Kitts airport, at the end of the third India v West Indies Test in 2006, I had the grand fortune of being sandwiched between Clive Lloyd and Gordon Greenidge, as colossal a pair as any in cricket legend. For a brief while, I felt like Sir Viv Richards, another giant who was usually slotted between these two in the West Indian batting line-up of the late 1970s.

I observed Lloyd arguing with the lady at the counter, explaining why he had to pay a reduced tax (I assumed that citizens of the Caribbean islands had to pay less). What was totally unexpected, though, was to see the lady, a stout and serious official, countering Lloyd point for point - "Mr Lloyd, the rules have changed", "Mr Lloyd, we cannot make exceptions" - and not relenting till she had received the exact amount. The bickering went on for close to 10 minutes, and unlike what usually occurred on the cricket field, Lloyd was forced to give in.
Imagine Kapil Dev in a similar situation at Delhi airport, or Imran Khan at Lahore. They would never have been in the same queue as the rest, let alone need to argue with airport staff. In January this year, an assistant sub-inspector in Jharkhand was transferred for fining Mahendra Singh Dhoni for having used tinted glass in his car windows. So it was a shock to see Clive Hubert Lloyd - double World Cup-winning captain, brutally effective batsman, archetypal ambassador, et al - debating without much avail. The incident summed up West Indians' attitudes towards their cricketers: respect, but no devotion. It was a trait noticeable through the two-month tour.

In terms of cricketing greats per square mile, it's difficult to look beyond the Caribbean islands. As of April 2006, Barbados, just 166 square miles in area, had produced 86 international cricketers; Nevis, a speck in comparison (36 square miles), has managed five. Arithmetic tells you that you're likely to run into an international cricketer at every street corner, yet West Indian cricketers can walk the roads without being mobbed or being approached for autographs, and sometimes - this is the staggering part - without even being noticed.

As a consequence, West Indian sportsmen are probably among the most approachable in the world. In Antigua, Richie Richardson, one of the most destructive batsmen to have come out of this region, not only readily obliged when I requested a chat, but also made sure he gave me a ride to my pre-match press conference afterwards. Greenidge, arguably the greatest opener in history, couldn't speak on record since he was - and is - a national selector, but he invited a couple of us to his palatial house in Barbados, turning what would otherwise have been a routine evening into an unforgettable one. Even Asafa Powell, the fastest man on the planet, spared a good half-hour after an evening practice session.

"The reason for the absence of stardom may be rooted in the defining characteristic of the West Indian appreciation of cricket - the game is always placed ahead of the individual, and fans revel in the nuances of the sport rather than the aura of the sportsman"

Winston Benjamin, a fast bowler who played 21 Tests and 85 one-dayers in the 1980s and nineties, not only volunteered to take me on a guided tour of Antigua, but also introduced me to his best friend (his pony, Princess) and spoke about the finer aspects of colt breeding. "Winston has no work these days," he said, referring to himself in the third person, "so I might as well show you around this beautiful country."

The approachability extends to the general public as well. Taxi drivers stationed outside Cuddyz, Courtney Walsh's restobar in Kingston, will tell you his itinerary: "He gone for the Twenty20 thing; will return on Mother's Day."

At the end of the first Test, a seasoned spectator berated Ramnaresh Sarwan outside the Antigua Recreation Ground - "Never take your hand off your handle, and I mean never." - and got a reaction that was apologetic.

At St Lucia several cricketers hopped out of their hotel to grab a drink at a local bar, and socialised freely. Brian Lara was among them, and he spent time with a group of fans, discussing cricket, World Cup soccer, and local cuisine. Ever spotted Sachin Tendulkar at Café Mondegar in Mumbai? Ever imagined such a prospect?

It's not uncommon to hear of former West Indian cricketers who've fallen on hard times. Devoid of celebrity status, and with unemployment soaring, some turn frustrated and wasteful, and lose their way - to such an extent that it's impossible to find their whereabouts. One of them, Patrick Patterson, that brute of a fast bowler from the eighties, is untraceable in Jamaica. His friends refer to him as someone "who's mentally unstable after losing all his money".

Unlike in India, the cricket coverage in the media is fairly rudimentary. Former cricketers don't swarm television studios, and it's only the occasional appearance on radio or in print that keeps them in the public eye. The current lot must occasionally feel like nobodies. An incident from the last day of my stay was a case in point.

As the Indian players were being mobbed for interviews and photo-shoots the day after their tense win in the final Test at Kingston, Pedro Collins walked into the team hotel and tried to locate his bat manufacturer, going completely unmolested as he did so. And while Rahul Dravid and Co. were hassled by Indian fans for autographs, Ian Bradshaw and Denesh Ramdin - one of the stars of the previous day - went almost unnoticed as they shopped in the New Kingston area.

The reason for this absence of stardom may be rooted in the defining characteristic of the West Indian appreciation of cricket - the game is always placed ahead of the individual, and fans revel in the nuances of the sport rather than the aura of the sportsman. Nowhere in the world will you find a more passionate set of supporters who're so distanced from the players. And it is possibly this detached outlook that makes them more evolved as fans than most.

by Tony Cozier

Denesh Ramdin needs to pay serious attention to his mobility, says former West Indies wicketkeeper Jeff Dujon © Getty Images

Once rightly regarded as the West Indies' next run-scoring wicketkeeper, and even spoken of as a potential captain, Denesh Ramdin is fighting for form and his place in the team. Six weeks away from the first World Cup to be staged in the Caribbean, his struggles in both departments and the dearth of realistic alternatives are major causes for concern.

He committed more errors than is acceptable during the series in Pakistan late last year and has again lapsed in the ongoing Pepsi Cup against India while he has been repeatedly out to indiscreet shots. It is a frustrating decline for a cricketer of genuine promise.

In West Indies age-group teams at the Under-15 World Cup in England and the Under-19 version in Bangladesh, when he was captain, Ramdin was so impressive he went straight into the senior team, aged 20, once Ridley Jacobs departed after six solid years in the position.

He was outstanding with both gloves and bat in his initial series with the strike-hit team in Sri Lanka in 2005 and again in three Tests in Australia later that year but his standards have markedly fallen since. The selectors alternated him with the diminutive Jamaican, Carlton Baugh, in the last six ODI series but neither has seized the opportunity to claim the position as exclusively theirs.

The only other practical option is the West Indies A team keeper, Patrick Browne of Barbados. But he has been short of runs in the current domestic season and out of the Barbados team in the current Carib Beer Cup match against Jamaica.

Jeffrey Dujon, the most capped West Indies keeper with 81 Tests and 169 ODIs between 1981 and 1991, believes Ramdin might have slipped into a "comfort zone" after his early successes. "I sense that he hasn't appreciated the intensity needed at the highest level," said Dujon, who followed Ramdin in series in West Indies, India and Pakistan as television commentator over the past nine months.

"He's got to take his work ethic to another plane," he added. "He's got to pay serious attention to his mobility. For someone of his physical build, his foot speed is sluggish. He's trusting his hands more than he should."

Dujon revealed he had spoken on the matter with assistant coach David Moore, himself a former New South Wales wicketkeeper in Australian state cricket. "He accepted my comments and told me he was working with Ramdin to iron out the problems," he said. "What he needs is a set programme to be strictly followed."

Dujon also had doubts about Ramdin's fitness. "As the game wears on, I notice he's not staying down long enough, a sure sign of weariness that leads to elementary mistakes.” What bothers Dujon is that, on all the early evidence, Ramdin possesses the ability to maintain the legacy of West Indian wicketkeeper-batsmen such as Gerry Alexander, the Murrays (Deryck and David), himself and Jacobs over the past 40 years.

Ramdin's story is symptomatic of so many young West Indians of recent times who have made an immediate impression at Test level only to just as quickly deteriorate. It might well be that it all comes too easily, too early and they take success for granted.

Ramdin turns 22 next month, so there is plenty of time left for him to get back the groove again. It is up to him. The final match in the Pepsi Cup tomorrow would be a timely starting point. An unblemished day behind the stumps and some valuable runs would do wonders for his confidence and settle a place in the World Cup squad that remains open.

© Trinidad and Tobago Express

Brian Lara made his third comeback as captain early in 2006 and beat India 4-1 in the home ODI series. But selection greivances, he felt, cost West Indies the Tests © AFP

Vanesia Baksh

The February tour of New Zealand for five ODIs and three Tests seemed a pivotal series for West Indies cricket, but time revealed the pivot to be more of a pirouette. Having lost the first four one-day matches, the West Indies avoided a whitewash with a Dwayne Smith 5-45 inspiring victory in the last game.

By the third Test in Napier - with New Zealand already comfortably 2-0 - Stephen Fleming, the New Zealand captain, was dismissing the West Indies as hardly worth a challenge, observing that they made mistakes in "batting, bowling and every facet."

It was the last straw for captain Shivnarine Chanderpaul, controversially appointed barely a year before to replace Brian Lara. He returned to the Caribbean and resigned, prompting speculation over the identity of his successor; the names of Ramnaresh Sarwan and Daren Ganga were raised with equal gusto but it turned out to be Brian Lara, for a record third captaincy.

At the press conference in Port of Spain where the announcement was made, Lara described himself as a "father figure" and a "leader" in the team. This time around, he said, he would define success as producing a leader, improving the relationship between the West Indies Players' Association and the WICB, "turning the corner" for West Indies cricket, and playing well at the World Cup. He also hoped the resurgence would come under his leadership.

He seemed to be making an immediate impact as the team beat the visiting Zimbabweans 5-0 but, in the way Fleming was looking over West Indian heads in preparation for his South African encounter, so Lara was looking over Zimbabwe for the India visit that followed.

Rahul Dravid's men arrived without Sachin Tendulkar, and seemed to be struggling as the West Indies won the ODIs 4-1. But the upcoming Tests were to highlight the true balance of the teams as they moved from match to match with only draws to show. They turned out to be much more closely contested affairs than had been imagined from either side, complete with dramatic twists and sideshows.

It began innocuously enough towards the end of the fourth day of the first Test in Antigua, when a rampant Mahendra Dhoni appeared to have been caught by Daren Ganga perilously perched at the boundary. Did he take the catch or was he on the rope? Ganga thought he did. Lara believed him. The umpires consulted and couldn't conclude and the issue descended into an unpleasant scene with Lara gruffly taking the ball away from umpire Asad Rauf. Eventually, Dhoni walked, but the tension was palpable.

It would get worse during the series as the matches continued to be drawn and Lara began making it known that selectors were ignoring his requests for fast bowlers. Things came to a head on the final day of the fourth Test at Sabina after India had won by 49 runs to take the series - the first time they had won a series in the Caribbean in 35 years.

At the post-match conference, Lara blasted away at "bad pitches and bad selection," finally opening up fully on what he had been suggesting through the preceding weeks. That morning, after a Harbhajan Singh offbreak went past his edge, he'd pointed sarcastic applause with his bat in the direction of the groundsmen. Before reporters, he elaborated his selection grievances. He had not received until June 29 a letter, dated May 28, informing him that he was part of the selection process. All the while he had been complaining about exclusion from the selection process, no one at the WICB had thought to mention this letter to him.

He went on to air his own suspicions about the preparation of the pitch, and said he would have to reconsider the captaincy. Later, he would write an apology for the outburst, saying he had overreacted. But it did not bode well for future relations.

Cancellation of the Stanford Super Star match against South Africa led to some uncomfortable moments between Allen Stanford, organiser of the hugely popular 20/20 domestic cricket, and the West Indies board © Joseph Jones

There was more controversy later in the year, this time over the highly publicised Stanford 20/20 Tournament in Antigua - an issue in which the extent of Lara's influence was revealed. Allen Stanford, a wealthy American based in Antigua, had come up with a lucrative package for cricketers and regional boards to participate in the tournament. Initially, the WICB had been cool towards it but, after considering the couple of hundred thousand US dollars being offered to each administrative board to develop its local cricket, warmth filled the air.

Then the submerged ice began to come up as the timing of the Super Star match against South Africa - which would have generated $5 million - clashed with the West Indies tour of Pakistan in October. Stanford was told the dates were inflexible, and that he could not even be offered a list of the team selected for that tour so he could choose his Super Star team. WICB President Ken Gordon said it was upon Brian Lara's advice the team for Pakistan was not to be named until after the Malaysian tri-nation series.

Several contradictory statements were published from the WICB and Stanford's people, and eventually Stanford cancelled the match. This provoked a bitter response from Michael Holding, who resigned from the WICB Cricket Committee, headed by Clive Lloyd, his former captain.

Before the fury could subside, the team was off again, this time for a four-month-long haul in Asia. They managed to reach the finals of two one-day tournaments - the DLF Cup tri-series in Malaysia and the Champions Trophy in India, losing to Australia in both. In Pakistan, they lost the Test series 2-0 and the five-match one-day series 3-1, before returning home to begin preparations for the regional Carib Cup and KFC Cup competitions scheduled to start on January 4, and of course, the World Cup in March.

New man on the block - Morton matures

Runako Morton's third coming after a turbulent start brought a new attitude and commitment that could develop into the right mix of aggression and composure to make him a potent early batsman. He was the anchor during the New Zealand tour with his first ODI century, and scored another against Zimbabwe. His growing maturity was evident in his 90 against Australia during the ICC Champions Trophy.

Fading stars - Wavell's wavering form

As an inexperienced team (Lara and Chanderpaul excepted), stars haven't blazed steadily enough to begin to fade. Wavell Hinds may find his poor form this year shaking his position on a team looking for new blood. A thoughtful player, it would be a loss, but the signs are ominous. He was dropped after the New Zealand tour, and played only when others were injured, but still didn't find his form.

High point - Lara overruns Kaneria

In almost every year that he has represented the West Indies, Brian Lara has provided some special moment that one can coast along on for a long while. This year, it was a spectacular 122 against Pakistan at the Gaddafi Stadium, replete with magnificent bursts like the 26-run over against Danish Kaneria that included three consecutive sixes and two fours.

Low point - 20/20 blindness

The entire handling of the Stanford 20/20 dispute was a sorry mess that reached a sad low when it degenerated into a war of words between Michael Holding and Clive Lloyd. It was appalling to see legends falling at each other's hands.

What does 2007 hold?

The end of an era. For a decade and a half West Indies cricket has draped itself on the arm of Brian Lara, at some points only stirring interest because he was escorting it to the dance. With his retirement probable after the England tour in mid-2007, it ends a turbulent relationship that has been as passionate, painful and exciting as any truly great love story. Nothing on the horizon suggests a new romance soon.

Epilogues

In March the West Indies hosts the World Cup, with games taking place in nine countries and involving logistics on an unprecedented scale. What it brings immediately and in the long term will inevitably be the post-game subject as West Indians tot up the costs and weigh them against the benefits. Whether it will be a celebration or autopsy remains to be seen but one thing's for sure: Caribbean cricket culture will not be the same afterwards.

Marlon Samuels showed he's capable of unbelievable strokeplay when in the mood © Getty Images

David Gower once wrote that the two words he hated the most, after "caught Dujon", were "laid back". He made batting look so easy that people were lulled into believing it came easily to him and, when he failed, that he didn't care enough about it. Marlon Samuels must make it his ambition to remove the words on his day from the keyboards of journalists and mouths of commentators when they talk about his batting. And that he can only do by playing like he did today, with regularity.

The talent is undeniably there. So much so that when he played his first defining innings - that blistering unbeaten 108 against India at Vijayawada in 2002 to take the series scoreline from 3-3 to 4-3 in West Indies' favour, Viv Richards, who was with the team, was the first man on his feet, on the balcony applauding.

That was a series played on flat decks where both teams chased down scores in excess of 300 with an ease that was not de rigeur at the time; that was a series where both teams packed their sides with batsmen, and successive individuals just walked out and teed off, destroyed bowlers and made captains weep.

This series, though, hasn't been similar. Although the pitches for the Test series, which West Indies lost, had little in them for the bowlers, the surfaces for the one-dayers have been uncharacteristically spirited. There has been occasional kicking bounce, there has been turn, there's been a fair share of seam and swing. Inevitably, wickets have fallen early. And the challenge for batsmen has been to primarily to see off the new ball, and then consolidate and counterattack.

Samuels did that brilliantly today. For sure the ball was moving a bit early on, and Rana Naved-ul-Hasan was putting a shape on it that would have tested any right-handed batsman, with the ball moving away late. Samuels played and missed a lot early on, often being squared-up and being made to look a bit foolish. Importantly, though, the ball merely beat the bat, it never took the edge.

Once Naved-ul-Hasan was out of the attack, Samuels knew that the toughest bit was behind him. With the pitch easing out - the ball did not move enough but still had decent carry - the ball came nicely on to the bat and Samuels could trust himself more, hitting through the line and over the top. The early signs of this expressiveness came when Rao Iftikhar Anjum was first chopped past gully and then blitzed through cover for consecutive boundaries; the confirmation was a pulled six off the same bowler that was pelted with so much power and timing that it sailed over midwicket.

If there was one batsman in world cricket who needed a big one, it was Samuels. Perhaps not so much to reconfirm his own belief in his ability but to remind the world what he is capable of

He brought up his half-century off only 61 balls and, with the team only needing to score at a little more than four runs an over, Samuels, batting up the order, was well in line to make a big one. But for three-and-a-half years - since June 8, 2003 against Sri Lanka at Barbados , Samuels has never taken the chance. That was the last time he made it to 50. In the interim period, he was fast becoming a Mohammad Hafeez in reverse - going from a batsman who bowled a bit to a useful bowler who could contribute with the bat. When he batted low down the order you sometimes felt relieved, for a spot in the top four might have just exposed Samuels.

There was only so long that Samuels could ride on the back of that brilliant hundred against India. One international century does not make you a batsman - ask Ajit Agarkar, who has a Test hundred at Lord's. There was going to be a time when someone younger - like Lendl Simmons perhaps - came through the ranks, and the West Indies simply could not afford to carry Samuels any longer. Before this series began, Samuels had gone 22 matches without reaching 20 - to be fair to him he did bat low down the order in many of them - and in 13 of them he didn't even get to double figures.

If there was one batsman in world cricket who needed a big one, it was Samuels. Perhaps not so much to reconfirm his own belief in his ability - he said at the post-match presentation that he always knew he had it in him - but to remind the world what he is capable of. From writing off Samuels as someone who could have done so much, the conversation will now shift to just how much joy he brings with his unbelievable strokeplay - on his day.

by Osman Samiuddin

Brian Lara's 34th Test hundred was a rollicking affair © Getty Images

The few spectators who came down today didn't know it, but they actually had a choice of two games to watch at the Multan Cricket Stadium. One was the second Test between Pakistan and the West Indies, where the tourists were pushing for control against a disciplined attack. Aggressive seven-two fields, with three slips, were set for the batsmen and Pakistan clawed back some ground by taking four wickets. On this track, that many in a session takes some doing and with still a lead and Dwayne Bravo in, lower-order to follow, ostensibly the game hinged.

But the other game spectators could choose to watch was Brian Lara having a lark. The decision proved a no-brainer. At 37, after 16 international seasons, 129 Tests and 33 hundreds, there shouldn't remain much room for surprise from Lara. We know he's a genius, that he moulds sessions and games as he desires, that there isn't yet a shot in cricket he can't play, that no spinner, no tear away fast bowler or medium-pacer can claim to have his number. There isn't a type of innings he hasn't played: monstrous epics, match-winning hands, gritty match-saving ones (a more recent addition to the collection), lone ranger, last man blazing classics. Yet he still has the capacity to leave you awestruck.

Danish Kaneria, pasted by Lara across Kingston, Bridgetown and Lahore, said before this Test he intended to go back to the drawing board to combat the man. Three balls to him, the last of which was deposited over long-on for six and Kaneria needed to go back again. Thereafter, cruelty after cruelty was heaped upon him though it isn't often that the manner it is meted in is so elegant and dapper. The pace of assault was harsh, never
the conception.

Kaneria didn't bowl poorly; he troubled Daren Ganga; got the ball to do funny things, made it to drift, to land on the spot. But to Lara, it became a football, tossed up by a child. One over, he twice jumped out and drove over extra cover for four, before sweeping fine for another. Kaneria got Ganga next over, Lara upped the ante the one after. The people behind the long-on fence tried to catch another ball, after which Lara stood up and cut through covers.

The apogee came the next time they met, however, a union that had already ceded four boundaries and two sixes to the West Indian. The turf then became a dance floor, Lara its Travolta. Over six balls, he jigged up the pitch, went back once and then danced down thrice more for four, six, six, six and four, all between the straight and square leg. More than the twenty-six runs, the footwork should be recorded. Sixty Lara runs from 29
Kaneria deliveries in that period was murder, nothing short.

Kaneria couldn't even claim special attention. Around the wicket, Abdul Razzaq gave Lara a platform from which his off-side game was shown off. Around point, the grass was burnt by drives, cuts, whippy flicks and glides. Having hit two boundaries from Razzaq's first over of the day, Lara hit three more in his sixth, the first bringing up a 48-ball fifty.
For Pakistan's first-change, a short, useless spell thus ended. As a fourth hundred in four Tests against Pakistan approached, he slowed down, though that is relative. Having been 92 off 63 balls, he eventually got the landmark off 77, the fifth man to score a century before lunch. Shivnarine Chanderpaul's 100th Test stood, typically, overshadowed.

After lunch, the two games finally melted into one, for not even Lara could continue like this. His ravenous appetite for runs and his side's need for a lead happily converged. Mohammad Hafeez annoyed him as a fly might an elephant and eventually even that was nullified. The shots came, not as often, but regular enough to sustain a run-rate of fractionally under four through the day; no batsmen could manage three on the first two
days. Even Kaneria was later spared, the tiniest victory found in two maidens to Lara late in the day.

Few wrongs in cricket have been righted as emphatically as Lara's record in Pakistan during this series. Before the first Test at Lahore, he hadn't passed 44 in four matches, an almighty aberration erased through two hundreds and a fifty. If there exist few reasons, as the legend goes, to remain in Multan, on November 21, 2006, the dust, heat, beggars and graves for which the city is famous, were all forgotten amidst one man's singular
charge to make it, briefly, the most enchanting venue in the world.

by Tony Cozier

'A Test average of 38 - and falling - after six years in international cricket is unworthy of a batsman blessed with the special touch' © Getty Images

The shock at Ramnaresh Sarwan's omission from the eleven for the second Test yesterday was surpassed only by Brian Lara's frank explanation for the decision.

"It's a time for Sarwan to reflect and come back strong," Lara told the world at the toss. "He is one of our main players. We know that. There's no doubt about it. It's an opportunity for him to spend some time off the field and see what it's like and come out back into the middle maybe more energetic and more purposeful."

It marked an unmistakable change in a policy that readily accommodated deceptively talented underachievers in the West Indies team in recent times. The names Carl Hooper and Marlon Samuels spring readily to mind. Lara's message was loud, clear and long overdue. It would have registered large, not only with Sarwan but with everyone vying for selection.

It was that, from now on, no one is guaranteed a place, not even the vice-captain, not even a quality batsman with 64 Tests and over 4,000 runs to his name recently ranked No 2 at ODI level. Sarwan's character will be sternly tested by this development.

Only a few days before the Test, he was acknowledging his slump in form and saying that he was "more determined than at any other time...to put together a score in this Test match". Now he must wait, perhaps even until next summer's tour of England, for his next Test.

He has come through adversity of different kinds before - the death of a cherished girlfriend midway through his first overseas tour, several blows to the helmet from unsympathetic fast bowlers, the initial loss of the vice-captaincy - and ought to come through this as well. But it is a unique experience for him, watching a Test match from the pavilion. It is the first time he has been dropped since his difficult period in Australia in 2001.

A Test average of 38 - and falling - after six years in international cricket is unworthy of a batsman blessed with the special touch. Most irritating, after all this time, is his failure to eliminate the errors that have repeatedly brought his downfall. He has been caught 13 times in Tests off the hook or pull. His square-on position early in his innings has exposed him to slip catches and lbws. Repeatedly, rank carelessness has cost his wicket at crucial times, most recently in the second innings of the first Test and the first innings of the last against India last season.

All of this would have been noted on coach Bennett King's laptop and in Lara's consciousness. There is a lesson to be learned from the player who took Sarwan's place in Multan. Runako Morton is short on genuine class, big on heart and determination. There is no certain selection for him. He has had to depend on the shortcomings of a batsman with twice his ability and his own hard work to squeeze in.

© Trinidad and Tobago Express

Fazeer Mohammad

Brian Lara scored his 33rd hundred but it wasn't enough to help West Indies salvage a draw © AFP

So where do West Indies go from here?

To say 300 kilometres south-west to Multan is the obvious answer, but may not be the one most are looking for in the aftermath of the heavy defeat at Lahore. The deeper, more analytical response, is just as self-evident, except that too many people are seeking solace from umpiring errors and an assortment of other excuses so as not to face up to a fundamental reality.

As well as the Caribbean cricketers have progressed as a unit in one-day internationals during the course of this year, too many of them still don't know how to play Test cricket. It's not just about the results, which are damning enough, but the repetitive manner in which they tend to subside, at home and abroad, which underscore that reality.

They are all capable of individual brilliance, and we have seen several of those flashes in the very recent past from batsmen and bowlers alike. But a Test match, like a cricket team, is the sum of its parts. It's no use dominating opponents for a session if the effort can't be sustained, day in day out, until victory is achieved.

We like to highlight turning points in a match - a key wicket, a brilliant catch or a straight six off the most threatening bowler-because it is easy to hinge a result on one or two incidents. However, in a contest as protracted as this, these are essentially just points along a graph, and the overall effort must be anchored in a solid base of discipline and perseverance, qualities that demand a high level of concentration.

Talking about bowling a consistent line or going back and across is the easy part compared to developing those intangible elements in players, the vast majority of whom are the products of a popular culture of instant gratification.

Just look at what happened yesterday at the Gaddafi Stadium.

Another masterful hundred from Brian Lara, superbly supported by Shivnarine Chanderpaul, finally put some real backbone in the West Indies effort and threatened to give the home team a few worries heading into the final day. Yet from the moment of Lara's demise, the fight went out of the side (Chanderpaul's wild swipe at Danish Kaneria shortly after was immediate confirmation) and the last six wickets tumbled for 53 runs.

Anything new in that? Close your eyes and call a cricket venue anywhere in the world and there is a very good chance that almost the exact scene would have been played out in that arena at some time over the past 11 years.

Bravo, who 29 months after his Test debut has not yet experienced what it is like to be in a winning Test team, seemed in the mood for some playful old talk with his fellow countryman, except that Lara wasn't particularly accommodating and at one point in the brief exchange looked as if he was uttering a few stern words

For Lara, it must be an increasingly deflating experience, never mind the usual empty platitudes about learning from this latest setback and staying positive and focused ahead of the next match. What else can he say at a post-match ceremony, that we should forfeit the remaining Tests and play 12 ODIs instead so that everyone can return to preparing for the World Cup?

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, especially from this distance, but a little exchange with Dwayne Bravo while both were standing in the slips during the formalities of Pakistan's second innings appeared much more revealing of Lara's true feelings. Bravo, who 29 months after his Test debut has not yet experienced what it is like to be in a winning Test team, seemed in the mood for some playful old talk with his fellow countryman, except that Lara wasn't particularly accommodating and at one point in the brief exchange looked as if he was uttering a few stern words.

Again, it may have been nothing, but you never know. It must be galling for Lara to have now scored 5226 runs in vain for West Indies. Vain in the context of at least not losing Test matches (something he has been talking about more and more over the last few months), though clearly not futile in terms of the sheer delight he has brought to fans of the game around the world for the incomparable elegance and style with which he embellishes an insatiable appetite for runs.

Some of Lara's greatest performances - the 688 runs with a double-century and two other hundreds in three Tests in Sri Lanka in 2001 stand out-have come in the midst of comprehensive defeats. In the single-mindedness of youth and the desire to rack up more and more runs and records, the legacy of being a champion batsman in a woeful Test team isn't all that relevant, because the mind says there is still time to make a difference in the winning column.

But time is running out, and even if the evidence of his 33rd Test hundred and third in as many matches against the Pakistanis reaffirms his pre-eminence among contemporary batsmen worldwide, Lara is increasingly haunted by the stark reality that too many of his runs are only of personal statistical value.

Like millions of Indian cricket fans and their obsession with Sachin Tendulkar, many Trinis now don't seem to mind too much that the West Indies have been beaten again, so long as their hero has gotten another hundred.

Those indulging in that short-sighted consolation would do well to appreciate, as Lara certainly does, that his Test career has, maybe, another couple years to run and that the game, and the team, are always bigger than the player, never mind how great that player is.